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Topic: [Supers] Powers That Be (Read 34886 times)

"Jesus, what a mess." The cop glanced around at the thugs sprawled on the ground. "What the hell's been going on here?" Then he looked up and apparently noticed the large bloodstain across John's shirt. "Ye gods, what the hell happened to you?!" He cautiously approached. "Yah, that can't be comfortable."

Marcus returned to his charges after a quick survey of the house. Security system and what few wards were intact to the best of his ability to check. No bugs either, which he found suprising. The windows were all appropriately closed. One of the upper guestrooms had another lost lamb which had been deposited there. The house was much as he remembered it: bland, generic, and easily replaced. He called in an order to two local delivery places, one for groceries and one for several pizzas.

He had taken the clippings he had recieved and made a copies from the back office scanner. He had put the one about Poe in a small envelope and folded it to a small pocket size. The other he had made three copies of, once source listings were deleted.

"I am sorry, I am being an ungracious host. Please feel free to refresh yourself. There is some food and drink in the Kitchen. More is on its way. If the doorbell rings, if you could make yourself scarce until the initial troubles are over, so I can answer it. You can make phone calls out, but I need to dial in an access code... so I can get charged for it. (Not true, but they don't know that..) Phone calls in are somewhat problamatic, but I can make arrangements. Oh, I am sorry. The first aid kit is in the downstairs bathroom. Now we have one more lost lamb upstairs. If we could keep this down to a dull roar, I think he would appreciate it. "

"When you are all ready, I can begin to field some questions you might have."

After some initial bits of prep.

"Lets get the initial ones out of the way. My name is Marcus. I work for an organization that is currently invested in the status quo, but is normally interested in the Advancement of Humanity and Society.

Each of you has been "tapped" in some way by one specific organization, though I am investigating the possibly that other organizations are tapped you. Being tapped by them, you have been modified by a variety of means to possess paranormal abilities. You may not remember being altered, they are good at memory modification. As for the "powers", if you don't have them now, you will manifest them soon enough. Yes the craziness you have been living does have a cause and you are not, specifically, insane.

One of the other organizations seeing that you were "in the open" arranged for you to be tested. Given their criteria, you all failed - no active combat power manifested. So you are no use to them at the moment. And rather than let you become a tool for another group, they will ensure that you are deleted.

Yes, that means what you think it means.

The group that tapped you, now realizing that you have been compromised, will either try to forcibly retreave you or remove you from the game, possibly deleting you.

You might notice the words secret and organization being bandied about. A lot. Yes there are a lot of "air quotes" secret "air quotes" organizations involved in all this. You can call them secret societies, cabals, or espionage cells. The differences are immaterial. These organizations function best if the general public is underaware of their existance. They are all about furthering their various agendas, some of which have spanned centuries, and utilizing any appropriate means to do so. They also have access to knowledge, techniques, and technology that are not normally available, and in some cases supposed not to exist. Yes, like magic for instance. However, Clarkes laws apply.

Now some of the specifics for each of you might be different. I am still researching, but this is what I have.

For the moment, we have to see what assets are in play in the search for you. That will determine next moves.

Now I have put myself on the line here for all of you. I have gone far, far beyond what I should of done. I just... I just did not want to see you all get killed for pointless reasons.

"Oh here", hands a folded envelope to Poe, "Put this in your back pocket. If something happens to me, you will need this."

Taking the envelope, Poe turned it over slowly in his hands. "And just because you spouted some conspiracy theory crap we're supposed to believe you, right?"Not sure exactly what to do with it, he folded the envelope and tucked it down the front of his pants.With the way I look, it'll be safest there...He turned, took two steps towards a chair, and turned back to face Marcus."If you really think that sitting in a room somewhere, after what just happened, is gonna make me feel safe...and you with all this secret society s**t..." he growled, running his hands through his hair in frustration. This is bad! And that chick said the suits were after me...d**n! I knew I shoulda caught the d**n bus...Poe balled up his fists. He hated not knowing what was going on. This day was turning out to be a bad one, and the sun wasn't even up yet. He walked over to the sofa and hopped up onto it, perching on the arm."So answer this, Mister Know-it-all...why were those suits after me? Am I some sorta "altered, memory-modified, paranormal" freak, or just your average garden variety type?"

Logged

"Every normal man must be tempted at times to spit upon his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats." ~Henry L Mencken

"Yeah, sorry if..I'm not quite up to...explaining things. I think...what you see...is about what you get. Remind me to..tell you...later..." Gunshot wound having finally causing enough blood loss to force unconsciousness, John's eyes slide closed and he falls over onto his side.

(OOC: Moon wound probably give a better description of the results, but I believe unconsciousness is a normal effect of bullets to the chest. It also saves money on pixels to be displayed as John tries to explain the situation with the cops, since he'd be gasping for air almost continually.)

Anatiel rubbed her forehead. All of this was too confusing to her and she didn't know what question to ask first so she settled for one. As she walked into the kitchen for a glass of water Anat called over her shoulder. "Where do you keep the aspirin?"

The cop blinked as John collapsed. "Well, that simplifies things. I guess." He looked around, sighed, then crouched next to John, muttering to himself. "And, of course, this means I gotta take care of this guy, like I didn't have enough to do. This is gonna be a &^%$@ to clean up..."

Michael's face flushed as Marcus' speech became more and more fantastical. He folded his hands forcibly, tightly gripping his fingers together. It was all he could do to keep from slamming his fists on the table. The priest listened as Poe spoke his anger. It was exactly the same way he felt: why should they listen to this paranoid conspiracy madness?

But then... It did add up, in its own strange way.

"They were after you," Fr. Michael said quietly. "I tried to distract the one - Eric. Then that other guy showed up." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I can't say they were after you on some genetic modification conspiracy, but they were definitely dangerous."

Anat came back from the kitchen and took a sip from the glass of water. "I thought the guy was after you, Preacher. I thought for sure you were going to get pulverized by him too." She took another drink of water and watched the people distort through the bottom of the glass. Anatiel yawned and stretched scratching the back of her head; It was something she often did when she was tired. She turned to address the strange man. "Since you know so much about us would you happen to have dry clothing in our size?" She said half hoping, half mocking. I wish I was at home sleeping right now. Anat thought to herself as she rubbed her forehead again.

He held up a hand to forstall Poe's little range and stopped to answer the others first. "Just a moment".

"Medicine cabnet downstairs bathroom. And bring the first aid kit when you come back."

"And Father Micheal, they were after all of you. It just so happened you were all conveniently in the same vicinity. Then you were all in the bus terminal. That became a cosmic recipe for chaos.

So you were both right Miss Anat XXX. (Yes, he should not know your name, it has not been used while he was around.) And I was not planning on bringing anyone else here, but there is a variety of sweat clothes stashed in the upstairs linen closet. Something should fit.

As for you young man.... and the rest of you.

I don't care if you believe me or the truth. I am not selling anything. I do feel vaguely obligated to you all now. What I need you to do is stay together for a time, keep a low profile, and then you can make your next move. The more you know, the better your chances of surviving the next fifteen days or so.

And you young man are a (and done in a near perfect copy of Poe's voice and body language) "altered, memory-modified, paranormal" freak. Then in his own voice, "though I am sure you, you were your average garden variety type before, if that gives you any comfort. Though you can't remember it can you? I am fairly sure you have a lot of blank spots and scary memories you are currently suppressing. I will bet you don't know your real birth name. If you want to know it, I think I can find it for you. "

And do any of the rest of you have blank spots? Even so, I can help you deal with your current issues... most of them probably related to your "differences".

Oh, it is not just happening here. He held up a few pieces of paper in his hand. Others are in similar problems. I am sure people monitoring them are not helping them like I am helping you. He leaves the papers (PM me if you pick one up) So relax for a moment. He looked at his blackberry. "Food should" Ding of the door bell. "be here any moment now." Marcus walked out of the room and drew the decorative curtain obscuring the room from the foyer.

beep, beep, buup beep. click.

"Once again, like clockwork. Now did you bring the extra cheese and peppers?...

"Tell ya the truth, I don't believe much of this guy's crap. But, also, I ain't adverse to laying it low for a bit. The other guy, back at the station, stayed back talking bout how his was legal, and he got a good look at a couple of our faces. Also, they got surveillance tapes from the depot."

Jader stopped and looked down at the papers Marcus'd left on the table.

"Whether he's a total nut-job or not, if the pigs start looking for us, they'll do it with a good idea of what we look like. And I'm not sticking my head out any further than I gotta."

Jader grabbed one of the papers and jammed himself in a corner to read it.

« Last Edit: March 30, 2007, 08:24:57 AM by Pariah »

Logged

For the love of meat, shut up! No one wants to hear your emo character background! My hands are literally melting away, and I'm complaining less than you!—K'seliss, Goblins

Anatiel nodded at the man and lingered for a moment to catch the last bits of conversation. When the doorbell rang she made her way downstairs to the medicine cabinet choosing the bottle of ibuprofen over the aspirin. After taking two she grabbed the white box with the red cross off of the wall and carried it upstairs with her and held it out to Poe at arms reach while she finished off her glass of water. "Take it. I'm not going to stand here all day."

Muddled voices filled John's head as he faded in and out of consciousness, but nothing stood still long enough for him to catch it and store it away. All he caught were wisps and vapours. Fire and brimstone, but my head is killing me! He opened his eyes, finally back into the real world. Where was he? The last place he remembered was the station, and a cop, and then black. The sky was still mostly dark though it had a tinge of gray to it, so it couldn't be much after the gunfight at the stop.

He blinked, then looked down at his chest. His shirt was still bloody and showed the entry hole from where he was shot, but once lifted his suspicions were confirmed: healthy, pink flesh, if still a little tender. Someone had done something beyond what he knew medical science could do. The best hospital in the world could merely clean the wound and sew it back together to help the body fix it on its own. Nothing he knew would allow for this much healing this fast.

"Thank you Lord." he muttered under his breath, genuine thanks in his heart. However it had happened, he was healed. He checked the holster hidden under his shirt to make sure his gun was still there and still loaded, then checked his wallet, the chain connecting it and his belt loop clinking links together. Everything seemed to be in place, including the $20 in fives he kept in his left pocket in case he was pickpocketed. The sound and feel of paper crinkling in his pocket made him pause and read it.

So. He had been saved from a very traumatic ordeal with police and hospitals and secretive organizations by some random person who happened to take care of his loose ends for him. How fortunate. Perhaps the old man from the station had taken him up on his challenge to provide a way out that didn't involve fleeing the scene of a crime. Or perhaps the first officer on the scene had been his mysterious benefactor. There was too much guesswork to be sure. The only thing to be certain of was that he was alive, not sucking blood through his lungs, and out of immediate danger, though the police would probably be after him shortly thanks to his missed shots and blood left on the scene, no matter how thorough his benefactor might be. Well, nothing else to do but to go on with his life and hope for the best.

Checklist of needs: New clothes. Hotel room. Food. Find my business partner, who I was supposed to meet up with at the bus station and who didn't even give me a name. Never been known for my exceptional foresight. And last but not least, find answers. "Not all in that order though." he said with a chuckle, setting out at a leisurely pace to find the nearest place where he could get non-battle-scarred clothing.

James woke up to a throbbing head and found himself in a strange room, that looked nothing like the apartment he had rented not a week ago. He had been drinking, but the bump on the back of his head told him the rum and coke were not to blame. James rolled from the bed, grabbed at the post trying to get his bearings, stumbled to the door, and made his way downstairs The house began to shake with each step down the stairs until he came to a room filled with strangers.“Which one of you xxxxs hit me?”

Marcus waundered in with six boxes of pizza. "Nice timing on your reaquaintance with conciousness. Come in. Sit down. I will get around to explaining. I was just assigned so I did not yet have enough time to determine your favorite flavors of pizza. So take some of the selection. Combo, cheese, all meat, all vegi, mushroom sausage, and hawaiian. Sodas and water are in the refrigerator. There may be beer around, but it won't be cold.

As for you. You were hit from behind by an agent of a yet to be determined organization. As they were dragging you off to an unmarked black van, some of my compatriots decided it be best that did not happen. Actually they were ordered not to let you be taken in. In the scuffle: we rescued you, they got away, nobody was seriously injured, all evidence was cleaned up, and you were brought here so they would not try to kidnap you out of your home. I don't know why you are more important than anyone here, but here we are. So come and eat first. I will answer everyone's "burning questions" after we do such.

James lifted one of the pizza box lids and grabbed a slice"Agents? Why the hell would anyone want to grab me off the street? I haven't done anything, I just moved here a week ago."James folded the slice and scarfed it down, then he went for a second slice, darting his hand in front of another of the "house guests" to grab it before any of them."I don't know about any of you, but I don't see why I gotta stay and listen to this, thanks for the pizza and all, it has been surreal."